Devour
by gloriousanon
Summary: Agent Romanoff is trying to pull herself together after Bruce hulks out. Who better to pay her a visit than a certain Asgardian villain? Rating for smut and some violence, a little splash of noncon. One-shot. Reviews appreciated.


**Author's Note: **Another one-shot snuck into my brain. An idea that has been done before, I'm sure. Maybe. I don't know, but it definitely got my kitty purring, so... enjoy it, or don't, heh. Reviews are nice, though. A tiny shift in the original movie events - as Natasha recovers from the Hulk incident, a certain megalomaniac pays her a visit.

**Devour.**

Natasha sat, sweating, attempting to collect herself. She couldn't rid her limbs of the trembling. Bruce's horrifying transformation repeated itself in her head. At the time, she had to act - she couldn't focus on the muscle rippling underneath Bruce's changing skin, multiplying and spreading grotesquely, as his inhuman cries echoed off the walls. She had no time to freeze up, or cry, or scream. She had to get the fuck out of there in one piece - and it had been a close call.

Now she could crumple and let herself catch her breath a little. Natasha Romanoff didn't break down - there was always too much at stake. But she couldn't stop the tremors from crawling through her skin.

"Ah... look what we have here."

Natasha jumped at the voice, jerking her head around to find herself face to face with Loki. Her heart was thudding with alarm, sending shock waves of panic through her limbs. She kept still and kept her expression blank, betraying the trace of fear she felt inside. "Loki... what a pleasure," she said slowly.

The demi-god grinned, towering above her seated figure. She felt her disadvantage and weighed the consequences of standing or remaining on her ass. "The pleasure is all mine, darling." She smirked at his cockiness, choosing to focus on her disgust instead of the hint of arousal unwinding itself somewhere inside of her. Loki held a hand to her, and she studied its long, slender fingers with mistrust.

"I mean no harm, Natasha," he teased, grin stretching tighter. On the surface, she was undisturbed, but her name issuing from Loki's lips only caused a more urgent rush of heat through her abdomen. She cracked a smile, cold as she could muster, and raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Not _now_, maybe. Who's to say you won't rip me apart if I took your hand?" She nodded at the offending appendage, still reaching down to her. Loki narrowed his eyes, but his lips remained locked in a smirk. A small laugh erupted from them. "If you liked, I could very well rip you apart, _Tasha_." His teeth gleamed as he smiled. "I haven't had an adequate chance to _undo_ you quite yet. Who knows what could happen?" This he spoke in a low, taunting voice. Natasha held her impassive stare.

Loki reached down and grabbed her by the arm. She jumped up, ignoring the pain in her leg, and pinned him to the ground. She straddled his chest and pinned his arms with her knees. He only continued to smile. "Oh," he crooned, "is this how you like it?" Natasha reared a fist back and crashed it into his jaw. When he laughed, she brought both of her fists down one after the other, battering his face. His laughter only grew more deranged in her ears as she hit and hit him, blows that would kill a human. But she couldn't take his _mouth_, she needed to see the blood on her knuckles (_on his lips_) because she hated (_desired_) his smug fucking expression.

She paused her beating, breathing heavily and shaking out her curled fists. Loki coughed and spit blood out, still grinning. "You've been a _bad girl_, Natasha Romanoff. Enough playing." He flipped her on her back with much force. It took her by surprise, and the back of her head cracked against the floor. She hissed against the pain. When she opened her eyes, Loki's reddened lips curled into a smirk. He was standing again, and brought his foot hard upon her bad leg. She yelped and swallowed back the scream that was dying to be released, holding her breath as Loki ground his boot harder. It seared and stabbed. Her eyes pricked with tears and she felt the sweat around her hairline and on her forehead.

Loki crouched over her and looked into her eyes. "I will devour you. I will surely make you scream, _Black Widow_." He ran his tongue along her jawline, tracing a wet stripe up to her cheekbone. She shuddered and jerked her head away. He took the opportunity to pay her throat attention, nibbling and occasionally biting. His fingers worked against the crotch of her suit.

Natasha grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked. He grabbed her jaw. "Convince me that you don't desire me. That you aren't imagining me ripping off your ridiculous costume and having you right under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s nose, right in the heart of their pathetic floating fortress." She stayed carefully silent, glaring daggers at him.

Loki released her face and straightened, still straddling her motionless body. "Perhaps you'd prefer the Hawk. That's it, isn't it?" Natasha's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. Loki nodded slowly to himself. "Very well."

In the blink of an eye, Loki was Clint. He smiled at her, leaning down to stroke her face. She recoiled and he laughed. "Come on, Nat," he said. "It's me. Come on." She foolishly closed her eyes against his hand. She was so tired of fighting. She missed Clint. This false-Clint kissed her full on the lips, tongue poking against her for permission. She broke the kiss and grit her teeth. "You are _not_ Clint." Her voice broke.

"Nat. Please. We've been together before... Nat, I need you." His breath was hot against her ear. Her hips bucked without her permission and she scowled. "_Nat... Nat... please..._" He whispered it like a mantra, tongue flicking her earlobe the way she liked. His strong hands unzipped her suit and explored her tired flesh. She fought against her body's instincts, but found herself wrapping her arms around him. She was moaning, devouring his mouth as Loki threatened to to do to her (_but it IS Loki it is NOT Clint_). She worked open his vest, running cool hands down his chest and abdomen. He pushed fingers inside her, just until she was melting into him, quivering and pleading. Not pleading with her voice, never with her voice - it was the way she writhed and raised her hips off the floor like an offering.

Finally he was inside of her, filling her. She clawed at his chest and carded her fingers through his hair as he rolled his hips, aiming carefully to hit the spots he knew craved attention (_the spots _Clint_ knew, only Clint, only Clint_). Her muscles tightened and flushed through with tingling warmth, building steadily up to a peak. Clint (_Loki, not _her_ Clint_) grabbed her hips and raised them, riding relentlessly into her as an orgasm ripped through her body. She moaned, her face screwed up with pleasure, and when she opened her eyes, she watched Loki smirk knowingly. His eyelids fluttered and his lip curled as he reached his own peak, digging his fingernails into her heated flesh, grunting. He panted above her and she remained motionless, racked with guilt.

He removed himself from her body and stood, magicking his armor back on with a flick of the wrist. Natasha zipped her suit up, the contentment she had felt thinning into shame. Loki watched as she scooted back against the wall, knees pulled up. "Thank you," he said smoothly, "for your cooperation." He turned on a heel and left her.

A crackling sounded. Fury. She only registered the last bit - "..._h__e's headed for the detention levels - does anybody copy?_" She lifted a shaking hand to her earpiece and took a breath. "This is Agent Romanoff... I copy."


End file.
